


what happiness love can be

by cobweb_diamond



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 01:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobweb_diamond/pseuds/cobweb_diamond





	what happiness love can be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissima/gifts).



The sweat’s barely cooling off when Nolan’s phone starts blaring out the Nyan Cat song from somewhere under the bed, making Tyler pull a revolted face that’s either involuntary or another sign that he really does not give a shit. Nolan rolls out of bed to check the caller ID. Emily. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken to her while naked.

‘Yes, O Mistress?’ he says, watching as Ty lazily kicks a leg out from under the bedcovers, pretending like he’s not straining to listen in on Nolan’s conversation.

‘I need Conrad’s phone records, March to May 2006,’ she says. Nolan rolls his eyes.

‘Well, happy Thursday to you too, Ems. Is it life or death?’ he asks, tracking Tyler's movements as he twists his way out of a tangle of super-king-size sheets.

‘Can you get them?’ she demands, and Nolan takes a moment to imagine her adorable little scrunchy-eyed expression of frustration. Being a douchebag to Amanda is its own reward, although of course if one takes it too far then one runs the risk of her bankrupting you and blackmailing your next of kin.

‘Much as I love playing Lucius Fox to your Bruce Wayne, you’re going to have to wait for this one. I’m busy.’ He puts enough weight into _”busy”_ to make it properly obnoxious, and is rewarded by a exhalation of disgust from the other end of the line.

‘Fine. Call me when you’re free,’ she says, and hangs up.

‘Lucius Fox?’ asks Tyler, voice laden with all the scorn of a clean-cut Harvard boy who’s never felt the siren call of illegally-downloaded screener copies of the latest Batman adaptation.

‘Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,’ says Nolan, watching with satisfaction as swift anger visibly bubbles and dies behind Tyler’s eyes, there and gone again in less than two seconds. Ty’s crazy-eyed anger management issues are just one of his many allures. Selling-points, if you will.

‘I should go,' says Tyler. 'The Graysons are expecting me at dinner.’

‘Now, why would you do that when you can dine like a king on pop-tarts and green tea with me and Big Ed?’ he enquires, but it’s a token protest because having Tyler roaming around his house unsupervised is a recipe for trouble. He’s like a feral cat, except instead of scratching the furniture he’ll try to access Nolan’s financial records and/or lace Nolan’s drinks cabinet with tranquilisers on the sly, the little shit.

Nolan watches, leaning against the dresser, as Tyler pulls on his rentboy briefs and covers them up with the ever-present Young Republican pants and shirt. Then he slips on his aviator Ray-Bans and shoots Nolan a look like butter wouldn’t melt. ‘I had a good time,’ he says, in the most insincere tone imaginable, as if the claw marks he’d just gouged out of Nolan’s back weren’t evidence enough.

‘You're welcome,’ says Nolan, grinning widely, and reels him in for a kiss on the way out, fingers twisting in Tyler’s collar. ‘Take care, sweetie!’ he calls out as Tyler jogs down the stairs, and waits till he hears the door slam before he sprawls back into bed with his laptop, ready to do Emily’s bidding.


End file.
